


Careful What You Wish For

by paperwar



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Asian Character, Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:05:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not calling all the shots brings out Momoe's bad side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful What You Wish For

Momoe had requested that Shinooka come to the clubhouse early that morning, without specifying why. Shinooka tried to talk herself out of being giddy about it. She couldn't help feeling optimistic, though. This was significant. It had to be.

They'd been sharing messy kisses and gropes for a few weeks, although perhaps "sharing" was an overstatement; while the coach responded with enthusiasm to Shinooka's advances, she never initiated anything, and every other word spoken when they were alone was an effort to dissuade her from further contact.

The day before, Shinooka had, in a moment of daring, put her arm around Momoe's waist and pressed a kiss to her neck while some of the boys were in the clubhouse. Granted, getting Mihashi and Abe to focus on anything but each other was always a challenge. Momoe had shrugged off the touch, but hadn't said anything further. Maybe she wanted to talk about it now.

Shinooka entered the clubhouse and called out a hello. Momoe looked up from her paperwork and smiled. There was something sharp and unnerving to it, though as she said good morning her tone was unremarkable. What was new was the way she came over to Shinooka, grabbed her chin, and kissed her: no hesitation and a lot of hunger.

Her hands swarmed over Shinooka, over her clothes, dipping tauntingly under hemlines and waistbands. Shinooka was surprised but hopeful: maybe something really had changed; maybe Momoe had realized the earth wouldn't self-destruct if the boys knew something was going on. Maybe she'd decided Shinooka was worth it.

And maybe not. But Shinooka decided that was a worry for later; right now, there were more immediate pleasures to enjoy, and that was what she was going to do. She was becoming dizzy from the touch of lips and tongue and the slide of skin against skin.

Momoe's fingers pushed inside Shinooka's underwear, lingering only for a moment before both that and her sweatpants got tugged down. As she stepped unsteadily out of them, she reached for shirt buttons to reciprocate, wanting to touch Momoe, to have nothing separating their skin. Her fumbling hands were brushed aside, but the sensations being coaxed out of her made it easy to give up. Rocking her pelvis against the fingers inside her, she found herself flicking her tongue inside Momoe's mouth in a matching, urgent rhythm.

She sighed when those fingers were removed, even if it was to strip off Shinooka's shirt and bra. Her world shrunk to lips and fingers and the rasp of fabric against her bare skin -- she was aware, vaguely, that she was now naked while Momoe was entirely dressed; something about it seemed wrong and exciting at the same time. She made another token gesture, this time towards the other woman's pants, but again, she was rebuffed.

She gave up on trying to remove clothing; Momoe's fingers continued to dip in and out of her, teasing the most sensitive places, circling her clit; it was too hard to think. _Stay there, just there, don't stop, just don't stop_, she willed silently, heat spiralling up inside her.

"You like this, don't you?" Momoe's breath was suddenly hot against her ear.

Shinooka murmured, "Yes, yes, yes," as Momoe moved behind her, hands reaching in front to stroke and pinch her breasts before returning to her cunt.

"How would you like it if all the boys were watching? If they saw you here, like this?" Momoe's voice had turned hard. "Yesterday you really wanted them to see, didn't you? That's why you kissed me while they were there." Momoe's fingers kept up their frenetic pace, and a nod was all the reply Shinooka could manage.

"What if they saw you like this, now? Would you like that? Do you want them to see?" Momoe flicked her tongue against Shinooka's earlobe. "They'll be here soon."

In fact, Shinooka could hear, with the part of her mind that was alert, faint shouts outside as early arrivals greeted each other. Her head spun with a torrent of dismay and desire. Momoe, she realized, had positioned her to face the doorway. They would be here in a moment, would open the door, would see her -- there -- like _that_. She panted harder, twisted against Momoe's fingers, whimpered a plea to hurry, to rub harder, faster.

"You want them to see, don't you? You wanted them to know. Don't tell me you didn't, I know you did, you little slut," Momoe hissed in her ear.

And that was it: with a full-body shudder, Shinooka came, release slamming through her, shattering her. She knew her moans were too loud, probably the boys could hear; the thought made her spasm into another orgasm. The instant it receded, Momoe pushed her aside, with a brusque, "You'd better hurry."

Shinooka, reeling, grabbed her sweatpants and shirt and scrambled into them. When the door opened to reveal Mizutani and Tajima, she offered them a weak smile, then dove to retrieve her underwear and bra from under the bench where they'd landed.

Momoe spoke to her as little as possible during practice, and if the boys noticed Shinooka kept her sweatshirt zipped up all day, arms crossed over her chest, what of it? There was a chilly breeze, after all.


End file.
